


The Kids Will Be Alright

by generally_frustrated_bowl_of_oatmeal



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Kid Fic, One Shot, Parallels, The Golden Trio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-13 17:13:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3389735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/generally_frustrated_bowl_of_oatmeal/pseuds/generally_frustrated_bowl_of_oatmeal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short look into The Golden Trio's lives before Hogwarts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Kids Will Be Alright

**Author's Note:**

> This is a really short drabble. I might expand on it later, if you have suggestions let me know!

Harry

Harry is conflicted about his cupboard under the stairs. On one hand it’s dusty cramped and offers little comfort, but on the other hand it keeps him safe from his Aunt and Uncles wrath. Harry doesn't understand it. He can’t comprehend why Uncle Vernon hates him almost to a point of violence, or why Aunt Petunia seems to loathe him, using her venom laced words as daggers to stab in his back. Somedays Harry thinks it would be easier if he looked more like them. Maybe if he had straight hair and pale skin like Dudley is would make it more bearable. But instead Harry had dark skin, or eyesight and unruly hair. “It’s from your no good Father.” Petunia would often tell him. Harry liked to believe his father was a good man, yet whenever he inquired about his parents Petunia would renounce his father in some way, and then proceed to ignore the entire topic of his mother.

This lead to Harry feeling lonely, incredibly so. By the time he started school at the age of six he felt isolated and was unsure how to make friends. He rarely talked to anyone outside of his “family” and when he did it was always in the presence of Aunt Petunia, who would swiftly apologize to Harry’s conversation partner. Her favorite claims fell along the lines of “Forgive the boy he’s a bit slow.” Harry hated when she said that. He always felt inadequate as soon as the words left her mouth.

The first day of school was a bit of a nightmare for Harry. After entering the class he found that no one looked like him. Everyone was pale, everyone listened to Dudley, thus everyone was judgmental. A freak was the word Dudley used. Freak. The second week into school during lunch break Harry seemed to only perpetuate the freak title. He was sitting under a large tree in the corner of the school yard observing the other children. Though not daring to initiate interaction. It was at this time that Dudley and three other boys too big for their age approached Harry five minutes into break. Dudley came everyday with varying entourages, and everyday he had a new insult. It became a routine of sorts for Harry. Wake up, be scolded by Aunt Petunia, Go to school, Get insulted by Dudley, come home, be yelled at by uncle Vernon. Repeat. Today Dudley decided to insult Harry about his poor state of dress. This topic in particular amused Harry due to his clothing being Dudley’s old wardrobe. Unfortunately due to Harry’s amusement he let out what seemed to Dudley to be a scoff. This did not sit well with Dudley, and as an automatic response Dudley attempted to use his fists on his much smaller cousin. Harry, seeing Dudley’s thought process panicked. But Harry’s automatic response was quite different than Dudleys. In the blink of an eye Harry seemed to disappear then reappear in the branches of the tree above him.

While this confused and frightened Dudley and his posse, Harry was overcome with a rush of joy. Not only was he now safe from his peers, but Harry had made another miracle. That’s what Harry liked to call them, miracles. The miracles had been increasing of late, and Harry wasn't complaining. They were usually small anomalies, like the time Harry chipped one of Aunt Petunia’s saucers, on accident, only to find it repaired within seconds. A repaired saucer seemed like nothing in comparison to act of teleporting oneself into a tree. The many reactions to Harry’s miracle happened all at once and all quite differently, from one boy deciding that screaming would be the appropriate response, to another young boy staring blankly at the spot Harry had once been, and Dudley began to incoherently babble mainly using the word “freak”. All the while Harry sat up in the tree, slightly frightened, but very exhilarated. In that moment it didn't matter what the punishment would be when he got home. He was just happy to be away from everyone, up in the tree, feeling alone yet free all at the same time.

Ron

Ron felt like an extra sock. Everyone in his family had a place, a thing. Not Ron. Bill was the first born, Charlie had dragons, Percy had his ego, Fred and George had each other, and Ginny was the youngest, Molly’s little girl. Ron knew his family loved him, he really did. But he still felt misplaced, like he was the one of too many. Sure at times the company was wonderful, like on Christmas morning Ron couldn't imagine having Christmas without his family, it wouldn't feel like Christmas.

It was a lazy Sunday at the Burrow, mid-afternoon Fred and George were locked away in their room attempting to increase a howlers volume and change it’s accent. Every so often a faint yelling could be heard several stories above Ron. His mother was in the kitchen already preparing for dinner, she was attempting to have Ginny help her with the roast but the girl was defiant and had her mind set on playing with Bill and Charlie in the Garden. So there Ron sat, not willing to go watch Percy study for hours and not willing to get up and do something. In this moment Ron only felt willing to sit and be bored.

It was then that Arthur Weasley walked into the Burrow. He made it into the house a solid ten steps before realizing his mistake and returning back to the door to take off his shoes. Instead of approaching Molly, Ron was surprised to see his father walking directly toward him. “Hello son! How was your day?” he asked while descending into a sitting position on the floor opposite his son.

“Fine, a bit boring though.” answered Ron

“A bit boring huh? Well let’s see if this can make the day a bit less boring.” It was at this time that Mr. Weasly pulled out a rectangular box from his bag.

“What’s that?”

“This my boy is a wizard chess set! One of the guys at the ministry had an old one and he asked if anyone wanted it. So I said of course.” Ron eyed the box now laying flat as his father removed each piece from it’s place.

“Can I touch it or are you just going to talk about it? Because last time you brought something home I wasn't allowed to touch it.” Mr. Weasley took a moment of pause from setting up the chess board and looked at his son.

“Ron that was a snow globe, a muggle artifact. This is different, this is a game and I am going to teach you how to play!” Ron looked at the chess set all ready to play."

“I’m not going to be good at it.”

“Ronald that is entirely right.” Ron look at his father now slightly taken aback.

“You are going to be amazing at it. Now look this is a pawn..” As his father began to explain Ron could feel himself getting more hopeful. Maybe he would be amazing at wizard chess.

Hermione

Hermione enjoyed school, she was content the company of her peers, she tolerated the ignorance of some peers, but she despised Matty Earl. Matty sat behind her in class and everyday he would touch her hair without asking permission. Hermione considered herself to be a well brought up and polite person, and as a well brought up and polite person everyday Hermione would ask Matty to not touch her hair. Much to Hermione’s annoyance every day Matty would ignore her and continue to pester her head. Hermione could understand it on some level. Her hair was rather large and bushy unlike the other girls in her class.

This bothered Hermione when she first attended school. One day she came home in tears because other girls were playing princess during lunch break, Hermione had wanted to join, but a girl the year above her stated that Hermione couldn't be a princess because there were no princesses that looked like her. At the time Hermione smiled and walked away to read, but once home and with her mother Hermione felt the embarrassment and frustration overtake her. One cup of tea and two story books later Hermione’s mother learned the full story behind her daughters distress. Miss Granger then proceeded to tell her daughter about how she was bullied for her skin color when she was younger, but that’s what made her special and the people who didn't see that were not nice and not the type of people one should be friends with. After that day Hermione found more confidence in herself, if her mum could have her natural hair and be proud of her skin then so could Hermione. It was an hour into school when Matty began to pull on Hermione’s hair today. He started later than he normally did, but he pulled harder to makeup for it. And maybe it was the harder pulling or maybe it was the fact that he never stops pulling her hair, but whatever the cause was it made Hermione snap. The teacher was in the front of the class helping other children with a maths worksheet when Hermione turned in her set and stared Matty directly in the eye. “Stop it.”

“Stop what? I wasn’t doing anything wrong!” The last statement angered Hermione for she had told him many times that she did not like her hair pulled and that she found it an invasion of her personal space.

“Matty stop pulling my hair, or else.” She stated this firmly then spun back around to continue fractions. Hermione wasn’t quite sure what or else would be. But she could think of something, she always did.

Not a moment had passed when Hermione heard the question “Or else what?” She then felt a sharp tug from the back of her scalp. Everything then seemed to happen at once. Hermione standing up and shouting “STOP IT!” As loud as her lungs could muster, other students being alerted to the altercation all at once and Matty’s sleeve catching fire out of nowhere. The boy then became immensely panicked while other children in the room began to shout as well due to the presence of fire, Mrs. Wells then rushed over to help put the fire out. But all Hermione could do was stand there. Because she knew that she caused the fire. She knew that she was special. And when your special no one pulls your hair.


End file.
